


We Take Care of Each Other

by JosieMarieVivianWilkins



Series: A Very Winter Gallavich [5]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Cute, Flu, Future Fic, Husbands, M/M, Need, Nurse Ian, Winter, poorly mickey, s11, taking care of each other, winter gallavich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25476988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JosieMarieVivianWilkins/pseuds/JosieMarieVivianWilkins
Summary: Mickey is a terrible patient, even when the one nursing him back to health is his husband.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: A Very Winter Gallavich [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1832320
Comments: 4
Kudos: 119





	We Take Care of Each Other

**Author's Note:**

> I could write this sort of dynamic for days!
> 
> Anyways, the usual: enjoy, prompts/feedback/socialising on my Tumblr - thebestpartofthecarrotcostume.

Stumbling out of bed, Mickey squinted against the sunlight that made his eyes sting and his head spin. He fought through the fuzzy head and heavy limbs enough to be able to stumble into the bathroom and relieve his bladder. Rummaging through the medicine cabinet for aspirin was a challenge, though, with every bottle of pills being knocked against making his head throb and his ears ring.

“Can you bring my pills in?” Ian’s groggy voice travelled through to the bathroom.

Obliging, Mickey popped the appropriate dose into his palm, squinting through the shrill rattling, and traipsed back to bed, dropping the pills into his husband’s hand and climbing over the other man to wrap himself in the warmth of the comforter.

“Thanks, but you’re a headache I can deal with.” Ian was stroking a thumb over his cheek. “You look like you need them.” Ignoring the weak middle finger that Mickey had managed to send him, he simply opened up his fingers and placed the two tablets in his clammy palm and closing his fingers around them. “Come on, just sit up and get them in you and then we can go back to sleep.”

Grunting lowly, Mickey accepted the assistance from the younger man in sitting up and quickly took the aspirin before his head was hitting the pillow all too quickly. He was just able to register the weight of Ian’s arm around his waist and his forehead resting against the back of his neck lightly.

His slumber was more exhausting than rejuvenating. Waking with chattering teeth and shivering, Mickey kept on tossing and turning, trying to cocoon himself as much as possible in hopes of staving off what he was sure was somebody paying the gas bill late. He didn’t dream once, barely managing to reach a deep enough state of sleep to do it.

“Mickey.” His shoulder was being shaken. “Mickey, wake up.”

“Mmm?” He squinted up at his husband.

“You’re sweating, man. You sick? You look a little pale – almost giving me a run for my coffin!”

Eyes drifting closed, Mickey reached up to tap his nose gently, sniffling for effect, and pointed to his head. “I’m cold! Fuck off!” He grunted when Ian tried to untangle him from the comforter that he had almost mummified himself in.

“I think you have the flu. Let me go to the store to get you some bits to help and I’ll be back.”

Mickey waved his hand dismissively before pulling the comforter up to his chin. “I’m fine…” he managed to mumble as he began to drift off again, able to willingly avoid the pounding of his head.

The next time he awoke, his sleep another empty haze, Ian was stroking his hair lightly and saying his name in a singsong voice.

“How’m I meant to get any sleep when you keep waking me up?” His tone was full of sleep and hoarse from the sore throat that had come on, softening his intended bitterness.

“Just shut up and let me take care of you,” his husband commanded, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his sweaty forehead. He then turned his attention to the plastic bag that sat at the foot of the bed, pulling out items and listing them for a Mickey: “Tissues with balm, vapo rub, nasal inhaler, NyQuil, OJ, and a Snickers bar – gotta’ keep your energy up!”

“I don’t need that shit, man.” He attempted to hide beneath the comforter again, but Ian had anticipated this and snatched it back with a frown. “Maybe the Snickers,” Mickey relented, sitting up on one arm and reaching out for the candy bar. The hand quickly came back though to catch the unexpected sneeze that scratched his throat and seemed to have taken half of his life force with it. “Jesus fuck, I think I just sneezed up a lung…”

With a somewhat smug look, Ian extended the box of balm tissues towards him, biting back the smirk that wanted to air itself at Mickey’s frown and rough acceptance of the box. “Now, get some NyQuil in you, a glass of OJ, and that Snickers and then I’ll vapo you up for another nap because you clearly aren’t leaving this bed, are you?”

“This is my nest of health and… snot.” He took the bottle of NyQuil and took two mouthfuls of the sticky syrup before moving on to the orange juice. A cough interrupted his drinking from the carton, spluttering the liquid down his chest and on the comforter. If the cough hadn’t been so painful on his throat and head, he would have cursed the mess, but instead he just groaned, feeling sorry for himself as he wiped himself with a tissue, ignoring Ian’s chuckles.

“Ah, my little messy baby.” Ian’s patronising baby voice drew a croaky insult from Mickey. Shuffling up the bed, Ian sat back against the wall and opened his legs, patting between them. When the dark-haired man begrudgingly moved between then, he sat forward and allowed Ian to massage vapo rub into his back as he munched on the candy, rubbing his shoulders and neck once he had finished. “Now, lay down, let me get some of this on your chest, and then you’ll be on the way back to being your usual grumpy self in no time.”

“Shitty bedside manner,” he mumbled as he obliged.

“But my in-bed manner is great, so once you’re feeling better I’ll make it up to you.” Another forehead kiss was all Mickey remembered alongside Ian mumbling about promises and resting.


End file.
